Transformers: Beginnings
by Waspinatrix
Summary: A distant time. A dying planet. A desperate gambit to save a race. An origin story for Vector Sigma, the repository of Transformer sparks.


Transformers: Beginnings  
by Oria  
  
Tan-Lin gazed up at the rich lavender sky. The ruby sun shone ominously--it was dying. Tan-Lin remembered herself and hurried down the metal composite road. She couldn't shake the dread in her heart. She, like her father before, had spent entire lifetimes engineering the shielding for the planet. The metal encasing process was almost complete. Tan-Lin thought she should be gladdened, knowing that despite their sun going supernova, her race would survive. She couldn't feel that way. What price would Cyberia pay to live?  
Tan-Lin walked to the temple, she could have taken a transport, but wanted to enjoy the experience of flesh while she still could. Entering the temple, she was ushered towards the holy of holies by the Guardian. The Guardian was disturbing with his silent, emaciated demeanor. He was the first High Priest to be subjected to cybernetic augmentation. It was rumored that it was a penance to Vector Sigma for some fowl deed done long ago, though exact accounts was conflicting.  
In the antechamber before the holy room, she was met by the current High Priest, Pri-Mon. The talisman, which glowed sapphire when in communion with Vector Sigma, hung around his neck. Met-Gon, Pri-Mon's elder brother should have inherited the Matrix, but the Matrix chose its own.  
"Have you seen Met-Gon?" Pri-Mon asked.  
"He is enforcing Vector Sigma's will in section 32-21," Tan-Lin answered, her voice toned with accusation. How was it Met-Gon did Vector Sigma's work, yet Pri-Mon received the glory? Turning to the reason she came to the temple, Tan-Lin asked, "Why was I summoned?"  
Pri-Mon had felt Tan-Lin's verbal jab, and his voice held the regret he felt when he answered, "Vector Sigma has not enlightened me about why you were to be summoned." Tan-Lin didn't know the guilt Pri-Mon felt for keeping his flesh while the starving masses were forced ahead of schedule to merge with Vector Sigma due to food shortages planet wide. No doubt it was this process that Met-Gon was over-seeing. "We shall enter when Met-Gon arrives." Vector-Sigma's command was explicit.  
Pri-Mon watched the Guardian, who was stationed at the doorway and seeming to look into oblivion with its baleful, red optics. Unconsciously, Pri-Mon's fingers clutched protectively around the Matrix, the link between peoples past and present. His eyes drifted to Tan-Lin. Could she sense the doom that hung over them? He would have liked to ask, but any intimacy between them was barred. Why, he asked the Matrix, won't you accept your rightful owner? No answer.  
Pri-Mon closed his eyes. He had wanted to volunteer for assimilation with Vector Sigma, to allow at least one other person to live even just a few more days. Vector Sigma refused him, saying it would be contrary to the greater good. Met-Gon's uncompromising will, caring more for results than the means and methods used to obtain them, had to be held in check. Pri-Mon, empathic and a leader by example helped to achieve that delicate balance, easing the fears of his people in their time of need.  
  
Tan-Lin gazed at Pri-Mon, and quickly shifted her eyes away. He was her childhood love, as was Met-Gon. But times change. She never had to choose between them because the choice was made by the Matrix. Pri-Mon had separated from her emotionally. At about the same time, Met-Gon stepped up his involvement with her. She had secretly wondered if she was Met-Gon's placebo for the denial of his birthright. She'd never bothered to ask--neither brother would answer.  
"Tan-Lin," Met-Gon's usually stern, commanding voice became uncharacteristically personable when he uttered her name, "I'm here." She smiled lovingly at him as the three entered the chamber of Vector Sigma, repository of deceased minds, a network of consciousness, intelligent and knowledgeable beyond mortal comprehension.  
Vector Sigma's luminance kept the darkness of the room at bay. The matrix responded with its own inner glow, like a small planet warming to its parent sun. In a rare moment of humbleness, Met-Gon knelt before his god. Pri-Mon placed his hand on Met-Gon's shoulder, the other hand on Tan-Lin's, saying, Awe are here."  
"Welcome, my children." Vector Sigma started to pulsate as communion began.  
"The shielding for your core is almost complete." Tan-Lin offered.  
"I know. My trust is well placed in you, as it was your father before you. But that is not why you are here."  
Tan-Lin felt her confusion rise and fall. While Vector Sigma had never asked for a progress report, it never crossed her mind that there would be any other reason she'd be here. "Lord--?"  
"I am aware of your fear, your doubt. You ask yourself, why waste time protecting this god when our efforts should be aimed at saving the living?"  
"Never!"  
"Would you lie to me?" Vector Sigma's question had no rancor, no anger, only acceptance of her. "You fear giving up your body to death. Of losing yourself to me."  
Tan-Lin, shamed by one lie, did not allow another to pass between them. "Yes, Lord. I would do anything to avoid this fate."  
"Daughter, this state of sleep will be temporary. You will again be graced with flesh and know yourself as only yourself."  
"How?" Tan-Lin was incredulous. To come back from the brink of death?  
"In time." Vector sigma soothed, "have faith."  
  
***  
  
Met-Gon could feel the presence of his god permeate his being from the time Pri-Mon's hand contacted his shoulder. Met-Gon welcomed Vector Sigma openly, still loving the god that had denied him the matrix.  
"Vector Sigma," Met-Gon said, in the trained mannerism of a High Priest he was trained to be, "what would you of me?"  
"Speak to me of our people, my son."  
  
"The rioting has increased as the end nears. Many youths are denied the chance to survive the end though you, because they had to be neutralized. Those that are given a chance don't seem to appreciate it." Met-Gon's summary of the people was saddening. Not by what was happening, Vector Sigma was aware of the desperation of the people as the End neared. It was that Met-Gon missed the spirit of the law as he vigorously sought to defend the words. It was this general lack of empathy that had denied him his birthright.  
"You have done well." Vector Sigma's praise seemed injected with regret, "you have always done well. And always will."  
  
***  
  
The ark, the heart and soul of Vector Sigma was sealed up and waiting. Pri-Mon watched the sensors. The sun was in its final death throws. Vector Sigma through the Matrix was with him. The Guardian waited ever patiently in the shadows, his pupilless optics seeming to see through everything at once.  
"Why did you want me instead of Tan-Lin to do the last minute checks?" Pri-Mon asked finally.  
"You are my chosen, Prime." Vector Sigma responded by abbreviating Pri-Mon's name. Pri-Mon looked down at the matrix, surprised, he had never expected such familiarity from Vector Sigma.  
"Lord, please forgive my impertinence, but what will happen to us, or is, as some suppose, truly the end?"  
Vector Sigma was silent for many moments. Pri-Mon was just accepting that as a negative answer, when Vector Sigma spoke, "the Cyberians will live on, we will survive...It is time, Prime."  
Pri-Mon's heart sunk. Had he waited too long to ask? He glanced once more at the sensors, indeed, it was the end, the sun was going to go supernova any moment. The Guardian had glided up to Pri-Mon in his distraction. Silently, the Guardian held out an expectant hand. Suddenly overwhelmed by loneliness, Pri-Mon reluctantly removed the matrix from his neck and handed it over to the Guardian. The Guardian just seemed to vanish as it secreted itself and the matrix away.  
Pri-Mon eased himself into the transfer-chair. And an odd sense of peace flooded him in these final moments. Vector Sigma monitored the last heartbeat--and the quiet that followed. The days of flesh were over. Vector Sigma was saddened by the loss of his friend, no matter how temporary. When they would face each other again, it would be in an other time, another place, and Prime would be alien...  
The Cyberian sun died in a panoramic explosion of white heat. The shielding held as the scarred planet was violently launched from orbit. Vector Sigma placed itself on stand-by. It would be millennia before the Quintisons found it...  
  
End  



End file.
